By: Jaselynn Farlow

Melanie Farlow 's 6 Grade; Principal or Director: Jason Farlow
Foundation Rock Elementary, Tuscola, Illinois, USA
Contributing Artists: Lindyanne Farlow & Jenna Farlow

Scatchy the Scarecrow looked out across the field at the clusters of homes and huts in the cozy little town of Thimblebrook. "They get everything--houses, clothes, even brains. I have nothing except this prickly pole up my back."

As he hung there, listening to the cows lowing in the nearby pasture, a plot brewed up in his straw filled noggin.

"Ha, ha, I will become ruler of the cows." For the first time. Scratchy had a reason to get down from his pole. So he wiggled, he wriggled, he squirmed and he kicked.

"It's no use," Scratchy grumbled, "This dumb nail is holding me up here." At that, he plucked the rusty nail from his neck and slid recklessly down the pole, landing face first in the mud.

"Mmm... delicious mud."

Scratchy sprung to his feet and scrambled to the pasture, breaking in his wobbly legs. Standing on a fence post, he made his announcement, "Fellow cows, heifers, and distinguished steers, lend me your ears. You give milk all day, and what's in it for you? Laying around in this shabby pasture, burping up the same wad of grass and chewing it all day? You cows need to get a life..."

"What's a life?" The cows asked.

"A life is doing whatever you want and never working. It's eating pizza and milkshakes like the village people."

"I say we go on strike. We want regular vacations, air-conditioned stables with TV's, and-"

"Alfalfa pizza and oatmeal shakes everyday!" The cows cheered, wildly flailing their hoofs and tails. "Hooray! Hooray for Scratchy the Scarecrow!"

Scratchy and the cows began chanting, "No more milk and No more cheese until you give us what we please!"

Soon the farmer came to investigate, "What's all the ruckus out here?"

Scratchy studied the old farmers kind eyes and strong hands--he didn't remember meeting him before--then he got up the courage to speak. "We're on strike! We want a life; we're tired of sitting out here doing nothing all day."

"Doing nothing? If it weren't for you cows, the little children wouldn't have any milk and cheese. And if it weren't for you. Scratchy, the kids wouldn't have any corn."

"I don't make corn!"

"No, but you protect my corn, and I need you. That's why I made you."

Scratchy's eyes grew wide with wonder, "You made me?"

"Yes, you're special to me. Even as we speak, there are crows in my field."

"CROWS IN THE FIELD! Not while. Scratchy the Scarecrow, is on duty." With that he ran off, pell mell into the field waving his arms, scattering the black birds to the sky.

The farmer patted Scratchy on the back. "Nobody scares crows like a scarecrow."

Scratchy grasped the farmers stout arms, "Do you think you could help me back up to my pole?"

"But what about that life you wanted?" The farmer asked.

"Having a life isn't having whatever you want--it's having a creator and knowing your purpose."